


Now That I Found You

by phdmama



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A big sexy truck, AU, First Kiss, Getting off in the truck, M/M, One Shot, Stargazing as foreplay, mild alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 07:19:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11076723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phdmama/pseuds/phdmama
Summary: Louis Tomlinson finds himself in Burlington VT, alone on Christmas Eve, which happens to be his 21st birthday. He happens upon an open pub for dinner, and meets Harry, the gorgeous bartender. Too bad Harry is straight.Or is he?





	Now That I Found You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zayniam (FallingLikeThis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/gifts).



> This was written as a pinch hit for the lovely [Tabitha](http://suddenclarityharry.tumblr.com/) for the [H/L Exchange 2016](http://hlexchange2016.tumblr.com/) (you can find all the other fics written for this exchange [here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/HL_2016_Fic_Exchange)) from the following prompt:
> 
> _Louis Tomlinson doesn't want to tell his mother but the fact of the matter is, he doesn't really have any friends. So, that 18th birthday party she's planning is going to be pretty dead. Luckily, she's a "cool" parent and plans to leave him alone to have fun with his friends. When the pizza guy shows up with four pizzas that Louis is going to have to figure out how to eat all by himself, he takes pity on the boy and invites him to tag along for the night. Harry is the hottest thing that Louis has ever seen, he's not stupid enough to turn him down. Hi-jinks and falling in love ensue._
> 
> As I'm sure you can see, I've tweaked it quite a bit, but hopefully you will enjoy it and it will fulfill your desire for a happy ending!
> 
> Huge thanks to my love, [taggiecb](https://taggiecb.tumblr.com/) for her keen eyes and willingness to be my advanced reader!

Louis sighs, turns off the tv and drops the remote onto the couch next to him. Having a birthday on Christmas Eve sucks. Here he is, turning 21, and he’s sitting on his mother’s couch, in a tiny, rural town where he knows no one and has no friends, and it just sucks. When his mom had fallen in love with Dan, and announced they were getting married and the whole family would be moving from Queens to rural Vermont last summer, he hadn’t quite understood what the impact of that would be on his social life. But now, it’s his 21st birthday, and his entire family is off at some church retreat, leaving him here alone. His mom, when she’d realized that they wouldn’t be back in time for his birthday, had been crushed, but given that Dan is the pastor of his small church, she couldn’t _not_ go. Louis was invited, but church isn’t really...his thing. Which leaves him right where he started, here. On the couch. Alone. On his birthday.

He flops down onto his back, and blows his bangs out of his eyes. His hair in general is getting too long, but he sort of likes it. After seeing his whole family off yesterday, Louis basically hasn’t moved off of the couch and he’s feeling a bit..less than fresh. He looks at the clock, and is surprised to see, it’s almost 6:00. Okay, here’s what he’s going to do, he decides. He’s going to go get cleaned up, he’s going to put on something that’s not sweats, and he’s going to take himself out for a nice dinner, and the fact that he’s doing it alone on his birthday be damned.

So that’s what he does. He showers, taking advantage of the fact that he’s the only one in the house to have a long, leisurely wash, for once not having to worry about someone banging on the door and screaming “Don’t use all the hot water, you asshole!” He shaves, thinks about actually styling his hair and then sighs. It’s not like there’s anyone he’s trying to impress, so he ends up just drying it haphazardly and then attempting to ignore it as it flops in his face.

Louis wanders naked back into his bedroom. Well, it’s not really _his_ room, because his room doesn’t exist anymore. That room, and that apartment, is gone, sold to a family with three kids under the age of four. Not to mention, it’s 275 miles away, not here. No, when Louis visits now, he stays in _this_ room, which is Dan’s study, where he writes his sermons and thinks Godly thoughts and Louis feels very uncomfortable about jerking off in a room where his stepfather talks to God. It occurs to him he could have used the shower for this purpose and he briefly contemplates hopping back in, but it’s getting later and he’s hungry.

He rummages in his suitcase, and pulls out some going out clothes: skinny jean, but not the ripped ones because it’s fucking freezing out, a fitted, long-sleeve, royal-blue button-up that hugs his curves most enticingly, and his favorite Doc Martens, which are the only boots he actually has with him. He rolls up the sleeves to show off his forearms, which really are rather nice even if his mother winces every time she sees his tattoos. He slaps on some cologne and grabs his wallet, phone and keys, and heads downstairs, pondering where to go. From their small town, he could either head south to Middlebury, or north to Burlington. He weighs his options and finally opts for north. Middlebury is so small, and with the College closed for the break, there’s not going to be much going on. He’s got a better shot at...something, he’s not even sure what he’s looking for, in a city of 40,000+. If he were back at BC, he’d probably put on some eyeliner, but he isn’t sure how tolerant the locals will be, even if VT is incredibly liberal.

Louis pulls on a long, heavy wool coat that his mom found at the local thrift store for him, wraps a scarf around his throat, sneers at the idea of a hat, and rummages in the dresser by the front door for a pair of leather gloves. Stepping out into the cold dark of the winter’s night, he pauses, unnerved by the silence around him. He’s a city boy, having grown up in Queens and now going to college in Boston, and he’s not used to the quiet of a country night, especially not in winter when everything is asleep. He looks up and his breath catches in his throat at the sight of the clear, endless dark sky, scattered with stars. There’s no light pollution this deep into the country, and he’s stunned into awe as the universe unfolds before him, even though his view is restricted by the trees around him.

He jumps in fright as a sudden, ethereal, and altogether _unnerving_ sound fills the air. What the fuck is that? Louis has no idea what sort of animal might make that kind of a noise and has no interest at all in finding out, up close and personal, so he hurries quickly to the truck Dan is letting him use for this visit, and hops in. The big engine starts with a satisfying roar, and Louis carefully pulls out onto the dirt road that will lead him to the paved roads that will take him to civilization. He has to admit, he feels, well, _powerful,_ seated at the wheel of an almost 2.5 ton truck. He guns the engine, and grins at the way the rocks on the road fly out from beneath his wheels. He’s having so much fun, he misses the turn off of the dirt road and has to stop, and back up about 100 feet to get onto the pavement. Ah well, there’s no one here to see his mistakes.

He makes his way through the increasingly populated back streets until he turns onto Route 7, and heads north. He has to admit, though he’s not spent a lot of time here since his family moved, it’s undeniably gorgeous and he can see the appeal. Fields stretch out into the dark on either side of the two-lane highway, and up ahead, he can see the moon rising over the mountains to the east. As he drives, the landscape transforms from country to much more populated, and then he’s in South Burlington. There’s very little traffic, and it occurs to him that not much may be open, as it’s Christmas Eve. It also occurs to him, now that he’s in the city, he has no idea where he’s going. He pulls into a convenience store parking lot and quickly pulls out his phone.

“Siri, can you find me a place to eat?”

He scrolls through the available options, and finally decides just to find a place to park so he can wander up Church Street, where he thinks he’ll have the most luck at finding an open restaurant. He’s beginning to regret his decision to come out. It’s cold, it’s dark, and he feels like everyone else in the world is celebrating Christmas with their families, while he’s by himself, albeit in a bad-ass truck, looking for an open restaurant to have his birthday dinner alone. He sighs, and ponders turning around when he sees an open parking spot, and even better, it’s an angled spot so he won’t have to parallel park this monster. Clearly, it’s fate and he’s meant to go eat somewhere around here.

He hops out of the truck and clicks the lock, sticking the keys in his pocket as he shivers in the cold. He looks around, surprised at how deserted it is, but then checks the time and realizes it’s already 7:30, and even the last-minute shoppers have probably wrapped it up and headed home by now. Hopefully _something_ will be open. He crosses the street and heads north on the pedestrian mall. He notes that most of the storefronts are dark and shuttered, sighs, and keeps walking. Then he sees it, up ahead, a restaurant that’s got bright lights on, and as the door opens and a group exits, he can hear the music as he approaches.

It’s an Irish pub, he notes, as he pushes through the door, and he smiles a bit in relief, having developed a firm appreciation for the genre as a student in Boston. He waits by the host station and looks around. He can see into the main dining area, where a few tables are full, but it’s quite empty overall. Off to the right is the bar, a gorgeous, mahogany behemoth, polished within an inch of its life, and it’s practically empty. He can see the back of the bartender, a tall guy with long, wavy hair that’s dark in the low light of the room. He’s leaning over the bar, talking to a young woman with soft pink hair and heavier makeup than Louis would have expected in Vermont.

Then he hears a voice next to him say, in a cheerful Irish accent, “Well, hello there, traveler, what can we do for you tonight?”

Louis turns. There’s a man there, probably about his age and about his own height, with open, blue eyes and dark hair. He’s not really Louis’ type, but he’s got the kind of face that you can’t help smiling at, and exudes a sort of warmth and welcome that Louis thinks can’t be faked.

He grins in return and says, “I was hoping to get some dinner. Are you closing early for the holiday?”

The guy nods and says, “We are, but you’re in luck, we’re not closing the kitchen for another half hour.” He pauses and then asks delicately, “Are you on your own tonight, then, sir?”

Louis shrugs and sighs. “Yeah, my family’s out of town for the night, it turns out.” He doesn’t mention that it’s his birthday, not wanting to seem even more pathetic. Not that there’s anything pathetic about eating alone, he reminds himself, but it’s just a bummer to be by himself with no one to celebrate with.

“Well,” the man reaches behind the podium and grabs a menu, “We’ll take good care o’ ye tonight. Would you like a table? Or would you prefer a seat at the bar.”

Louis looks around and makes a quick decision. “Actually, a seat at the bar sounds good,” he says, looking at the high back stools upholstered in a deep red that he’s sure is not real leather, but certainly looks rich enough.

As he gets settled, the host sets the menu down on the bar in front of him, and says, “Well, if you need anything else, I’m Niall, and we’ve got Harry gracing us with his presence on bar tonight, all the way from Boston. Have a good meal.” He then turns and calls down to the man at the other end of the bar, “Oi, Hazza, quit flirting with Perrie and come take care of our valued customer!” Niall turns back to Louis and winks, saying, “He’ll treat you right or I’ll know the reason why,” and wanders back to whatever he was doing in the other room.

The man approaches and Louis catches his breath, because looking at this guy feels almost like staring up at the infinite night sky. He’s gorgeous, tall and lanky, with chestnut hair that brushes his shoulders in gleaming waves. He’s got strong features, expressive eyes that might actually be green, though it’s hard to tell in the dim light of the bar. He also the lushest mouth Louis’ ever seen and a jawline he’d like to ski down. His smile is genuine, his body exquisite, and he’s almost certainly straight, if Niall’s comment is anything to go by. Louis gives a small sigh, and an internal shrug. Really, it would be far to much to hope for, to find an attractive guy to flirt with on his birthday. That’s not the way today is going.

The guy comes to a halt in front of Louis and gives him a subtle once over as he smiles and says, “Welcome to Mullingar’s. What’s your pleasure tonight?”

Louis bites his tongue to keep from saying something inappropriate, and just smiles. “I’ll take a look at the menu.”

“Well, take your time,” the man says cheerfully, wiping down the bar in front of Louis and tossing down a coaster. “I’m not going anywhere for ages.”

The pink-haired woman snorts as she walks by, and says “Yeah, right, Harry, and what are your big plans for the night?”

Harry laughs and shrugs. “Okay, fine. I still can’t believe my mom and Robin are on a cruise for Christmas!” He turns to Louis, pulling a sad face, “Can you believe it? My own mother, abandoning her only son. On Christmas!” He opens the menu in front of Louis and sets it down, tapping lightly against it. “There’s our drinks list.”

Louis takes a long moment to read it. He’d planned on just ordering a beer, but suddenly, a festive cocktail sounds appealing. He scans the list, and then says decisively, “I’ll have the Kentucky Mule, please.”

Harry raises one eyebrow approvingly. “Strong choice,” he opines. “Have you got an ID on you?”

Louis burst out laughing as it hits him, he’s legal as of today. “Yeah,” he snorts, astonished that he’d managed to forget this. Of course, he’s been using his fake ID for the last few years, but wow, now he can use his real one. He pulls out his wallet and carefully extracts his license and hands it over.

Harry looks it over and then his eyes widen. “Wait a minute, it’s your birthday.”

Louis nods. “It is.”

Harry frowns. “It’s your twenty-first birthday.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “I know, I know, I’m alone in a bar on Christmas Eve which happens to be my twenty-first birthday. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

Harry flushes and hands Louis back his license. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” he stutters, “I didn't mean to...oh shit, I’m sorry.”

Louis takes pity on him. “It’s fine, man, really. My mom just moved to VT last summer, and I don’t know anyone around here. I’m home from college for break, also Boston,” he adds and Harry grins, “and I didn’t realize they were doing this church retreat thing tonight, so I’m on my own. The fam’ll be back in the morning, so we’re going to celebrate then, but in the meantime…” his voice trails off.

“Well,” Harry says firmly, “Then we’ll have to help you celebrate tonight.”

He finishes mixing the drink and sets it down in front of Louis with a flourish. “So, Boston, huh? Where are you at?”

Louis takes a sip of the drink and makes an appreciative hum of approval. “Oh, fuck, that’s good. I’m at BC. I’m a junior, majoring in psych. You?”

Harry’s eyes have widened. “No fucking way, I’m at BC too, freshman. Economics though.” They grin at each other and Louis feels a small buzz of something like anticipation, because Harry really is very, very pretty. _Straight,_ he reminds himself, _he’s straight._

“So, Harry,” Louis sips again, “Are you from around here? How’d you end up bartending on Church Street on Christmas Eve?” He also wonders why Harry is a freshman when he has to be of age to be tending bar, but doesn’t think it’s really any of his business to ask.

Harry leans casually back against the till and Louis can’t help but glance at the long lines of his lean body, the curve of his hips in his sinfully tight jeans, the way his shirt rides up to expose a tantalizing bulge between his legs. Louis sighs and takes another drink. Fucking straight boys.

“Yeah,” Harry says, “I grew up in South Burlington. Niall and I actually lived next door to each other our whole lives, his family owns this pub. Had my first job here as a busser, worked my way up to bar. I took a couple of years off before going to college, so I’m legal to serve booze.” He winks cheerfully and Louis chokes a bit on his drink. “When it turned out I was going to be on my own for Christmas, Niall graciously offered to let me work.”

He grins over Louis’s shoulder, who turns and is unsurprised to see Niall coming back into the bar area. Niall smiles and says, “Harry, I know you live to serve. We’re going to be closing the kitchen in 15, boys, so we should get your order in.”

“Niall,” Harry says, “It’s his birthday today. Lewis, is that right?”

“Louis,” Louis says, “I actually pronounce it Louis, and yes, it’s my birthday.”

Niall looks delighted. “Well, then, make sure to save room for the Guinness chocolate cake, man, it’s amazing. Happy birthday!”

Louis takes another sip of his drink and leans back in his chair as he scans the menu, suddenly feeling like maybe this isn’t as much of a disaster of a birthday as he had feared. Maybe it’s actually going to be okay.

He decides to treat himself to the flat iron steak and throws caution to the winds and requests the VT poutine as well, and can’t help feeling pleased as Harry nods in approval of his choices.

“I do love a good poutine,” Harry remarks as he punches in Louis’ order and Louis frowns a bit because, who even is this kid? Who says something like that?

As he waits for his dinner, conversation between him and Harry flows as if they’ve known each other for years instead of minutes. They talk about their classes, dorm life, Louis describes the shitty apartment he’s renting with 5 other guys, as is typical for your junior year at BC. It’s not surprising he’s never seen Harry before, they’re in different years and different majors, and especially living off-campus this year, Louis’ been feeling a bit disconnected from campus life. He orders another drink, a glass of wine to go with the steak, because he can, now, legally.

“So,” Harry says, “Psychology, what’s that about?” He doesn’t sound sarcastic or like he’s looking down on Louis, which is a thing Louis has kind of gotten used to, as a guy in a helping field, so his hackles don’t raise as he considers Harry’s question.

“Well,” he says, gathering his thoughts, “when Mark, my step dad left, I was pretty fucked up about it. I was 12, in middle school, and yeah, I made some bad decisions, did some things that could have really gotten me into trouble, but my mom took me to see this guy, Nat, to talk to. And it helped me a lot, helped me figure a lot of things out…”

His voice trails off as he remembers sitting in Nat’s weird, windowless, basement office and sobbing as he’d gasped out over and over again, “I’m gay, fuck, I’m gay, how’m I gonna tell my mom, she’s gonna kill me,” and how Nat had listened, had told him that he was absolutely okay, had helped him figure out how to tell his mom, who decidedly hadn’t killed him, had just held him and kissed him and told him she loved him.

“Yeah,” he coughs, “Anyway, so I figured, that’s a cool job, right? Helping kids figure their shit out, be safe, be okay? I figured, that’s what I want to do.”

Harry’s eyes are shining and if Louis didn’t know better, he’d think the look on his face is something like attraction because Harry is staring at him as if he’s something rare, something precious. Something beautiful. Harry is staring at Louis in a way that Louis thinks no one ever has before, and fuck, he should _not_ have another drink, Louis thinks, because he’s going to start getting the wrong idea from how Harry is looking at him.

“Oh,” Harry breathes, “Oh, Louis. Wow. That’s.” He coughs a bit self-consciously. “That’s amazing, man.”

Louis drains the rest of his wine and says “It made such a difference to me, you know? So my plan is, go to social work school and then be a therapist for kids.”

“Well,” Harry says after a pause, “You’re a good person, Louis. Do you want another drink?”

Louis considers for a moment. Instead of the NO he should be saying, though, he hears himself say “Maybe with dessert. What did Niall say about Guinness cake?”

“Oh,” Harry’s face lights up in delight, “Oh my god, yes, you have to have that. It’s amazing, Guinness chocolate cake with Bailey’s frosting? Oh!” Here he looks positively ecstatic, “You have to have prosecco,” and here he flushes a bit, as he says, “It’s such a sexy drink, don’t you think?”

He glances through his lashes at Louis as he says this, and if Louis didn’t know any better, he’d think Harry was flirting with him, but Harry is straight, and straight boys don’t usually flirt with other boys like this, so Louis writes it off to the wine, forgetting for a moment that Harry is actually working, and Louis has only seen him drinking water. In any case, Harry pops open the bottle of prosecco, and pours Louis a glass, setting the bottle on the bar next to him.

“Niall,” Harry calls out, “Niall, Louis needs dessert, he needs cake, Niall. Birthday cake.”

Louis hears Niall’s shout as he heads into the kitchen, “I am _on it,_ Styles,” and in no time at all, it seems, there’s a very large slice of chocolate cake smothered in gooey frosting, plus an enormous scoop of ice cream, complete with a lopsided candle, sitting in front of him. All of a sudden, the waitstaff and Harry are singing Happy Birthday at the top of their lungs, terribly out of tune and Louis is blushing as he blows out the candle and drinks his bubbly.

As he eats, he and Harry continue their conversation, words flowing easily between them like a river, and then Harry says, not meeting Louis’ eyes as he wipes down the bar again, “So, are you, like dating anyone? In Boston?”

Louis takes a deep breath. It never gets easy, is the thing, coming out, no matter how confident he feels in who he is, how proud he is to be himself. He sighs and says, “No, not right now. My last boyfriend and I broke up about a year ago.” He forces himself to look at Harry, wondering what he’s going to see.

Harry blinks in surprise and says, “Boyfriend? Oh, are you, um…”

“Gay,” Louis says helpfully, “Totally gay.” He can’t help that his voice hardens just a little bit, “Why, is that a problem?”

“Oh, no,” Harry says loudly, seeming to surprise himself, “No, it’s no problem, not at all. I just, is it tough to be out at BC?”

Louis shrugs, “Not really, no. I mean, yeah it’s a Catholic school, but it’s the Jesuits, you know? And in any case, I’m not Catholic, so I don’t worry too much about it. There’s lots of good resources on campus, and I’m involved with the student activist group, it’s cool.”

Harry frowns down at the bar, where he’s been wiping the same spot for several long moments now. “Oh, I just thought maybe that would be hard, you know, for you.” He looks lost in thought and Louis can’t help but wonder what is going on his mind, but Harry doesn’t seem inclined to share,

Louis eats the cake and drinks the wine and when he looks around the restaurant, he frowns in surprise. The lights are off in the other room and he can see that the chairs have all been flipped up onto the tables in preparation for the cleaning crew. He glances at his phone and his eyes widen in shock, it’s almost 10:00. Niall is now sitting next to him, drinking his own glass of the prosecco, and Louis says, “Shit, Niall, weren’t you closing? I’m so sorry, I can get out of here.” He moves to pull out his wallet as Niall holds up his hand.

“Nah, Louis, don’t worry about it, you’re fine, mate,” he says, taking another swig of the sparkling wine. “And put your wallet away, dinner's on us tonight.”

Louis stares. “What? Are you kidding?”

Niall shrugs and grins. “Yeah, man, it’s Christmas Eve, it’s your birthday. No argument.” He stands and stretches, and says to Harry, “You can shut down, mate.”

Harry nods, and clears away Louis’ dishes, leaving the champagne glass. He empties the last of the bottle into it, and grins at Louis. “Cheers.”

Louis watches Harry carry out his shut-down tasks. He takes out the trash (Louis notes approvingly that he washes his hands when he gets back), closes out his register, carefully divides his tip money into several envelopes and sticks the rest of the cash in his pocket. As Louis swallows down the rest of the prosecco, Harry takes the glass, and stashes it in the dishwasher, which he then sets running. Louis can see Niall flipping off the outside lights, and sighs. It’s time for him to go.

He stands up, and wobbles slightly and frowns. Shit, that last glass of wine seems really to have gone to his head. He’s going to have to take a walk, let it settle before he drives. When he looks up, he catches Harry watching him with a concerned look.

“You okay to drive?”

Louis smiles as he shakes his head. “Uh, no I don’t think so, actually. Think I’ll go take a walk or something, get my head a bit clearer.” He pauses and then holds his hand out to Harry, saying softly, “It was really great to meet you tonight, Harry, and maybe I’ll see you around campus.”

Harry clasps his hand and stares at him and then says, “Wait a second, okay?” He heads into the back, and then comes out through the kitchen, holding his winter gear. He shrugs into a heavy ski jacket, jams a hat on his head, winds a scarf around his neck and turns to Louis.

“Can I walk with you?”

Harry looks a little nervous and Louis can’t figure out why. He wonders if Harry is worried about him wandering around Burlington at night, and thinks a bit fuzzily that Harry seems like a sweet guy. He realizes that Harry is actually waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, of course,” Louis says, “I mean, I don’t know this area at all, really.”

He glances sideways up at Harry through his eyelashes, and then wants to punch himself lightly in the face. This is a straight guy, who, judging by the poleaxed look on his face, isn’t used to men flirting with him. But then Harry just smiles slowly back and moves forward to open the door for Louis, guiding him out into the dark night. Louis can barely feel Harry’s hand on his lower back though the barrier of his winter coat, but he knows it’s there.

As they wander down the street, it’s quiet around them. Somewhere off in the distance, Louis can hear church bells ringing, and it smells like snow, though the sky is clear, dark and infinite above them.

They walk in silence for a bit and then Harry says, “I love looking at the stars, it’s too bad there’s so much light here, you can’t really see them as well.”

Louis glances at him, and he’s staring up at the night sky, and Louis wants to run his tongue along the sharp cut of his jawline.

“Yeah, my mom and her husband basically live in the woods, outside of Vergennes,” he offers, “It was so clear when I was leaving tonight to come into Burlington.” He remembers the noise he heard, and says, “Something scared the shit out of me though, some animal, I have no idea what it was.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry looks amused. “What did it sound like?”

Louis grins, and says, “Okay, promise not to laugh, but it was like a wailing cry?”

He does his best to imitate the sound he remembers and Harry snickers. Louis nudges him with his shoulder and, laughing himself, says, “Hey, you promised not to laugh!”

“Sorry,” Harry says, clearly unrepentant, “That’s an eastern screech owl though, they sound really eerie.”

“Really?” Louis frowns, “I thought owls did that ‘who whoo’ thing, or have the movies misled me? And how do you know that, anyway?”

Harry shrugs, “I just really like birds? I mean, I grew up camping out in the woods and stuff.”

Louis shakes his head, trying to imagine in. “Man, I grew up in Queens,” he says, “I don’t think there were too many owls around.”

They walk on in silence for a minute, and then Harry coughs and says diffidently, “Hey, um, I don’t know if you’re in a hurry to get home or anything, but I know this cool place not too far out of town, where you can really see the stars, right down by the lake?”

He’s not looking at Louis as he says this, and Louis can’t quite read his tone or his intent. “I’m not in any rush,” he says finally, “But I don’t think I can drive there yet.”

Harry frowns, “I’m staying at Niall’s tonight, he’s got an apartment near here, we could go get my car?”

Louis shrugs and says, pointing, “That’s my truck right there. If you want to drive, we can just take that, then I can bring you back here when we’re, uh, done?”

He feels off-balance, like he’s missing a piece of information about what’s happening here, and wonders if it’s just the prosecco, fizzing in his brain.

Harry looks at the truck and his eyes light up, “That’s yours? Oh my god, I’ve always wanted to drive a truck like that, that’s so cool.”

Louis laughs, and roots around in his pocket for the keys as they cross the street. He clicks the locks open and hands them to Harry. “Well, it’s my step-dad’s, but he’s letting me use it for this break. It’s awfully butch, isn’t it? I kind of love it.”

Harry just grins, and jogs around to the passenger side, which confuses Louis a bit until he realizes that Harry is opening the door for him. He clambers up into the cab of the truck and starts to feel very confused, because he may be a bit tipsy, but he’s pretty sure that a bro doesn’t normally hold the car door for his new bro pal, which means it’s possible he has misread the situation.

Harry carefully backs the truck out into the now-deserted street, and starts driving. Louis watches out the window as the urban landscape of downtown Burlington gives way to the suburbs, and then they’re on Route 7 driving south through farmland, and he laughs a little, thinking how he’ll have to backtrack to bring Harry back into the city before heading this same way home. But before they’ve gone much farther, Harry is turning right onto a paved road, which soon shifts to gravel under the truck’s tires, and the further they get from the highway, the darker it is. Their way is lit now only by the truck’s powerful headlights, and Louis is looking out onto fields, which then turn to woods. The road is getting smaller and smaller until finally it’s only a faint track, and when the truck pulls out of the trees onto another field, Louis gasps as Lake Champlain opens up before them. Harry maneuvers the truck down onto the rocky beach, and kills the engine and the lights, and there’s deep silence and even deeper dark around them.

Louis says, “Man, I really hope you’re not a serial killer who's brought me here to murder me.” He’s mostly joking. “At least I’ve sobered up, so I should have my reflexes back.”

Harry snorts and Louis snickers in response. “Yeah, sorry,” Harry says, “I really didn’t bring you here to murder you.”

Louis turns in his seat and releases his seatbelt. “Why did you bring me here, Harry?” He asks the question softly and it hangs in the air between them as Harry mimics Louis’ movement, sliding off his seat belt and turning to face him. The moment feels electric to Louis as their eyes catch and he says Harry’s gaze drop for a moment to his lips and then flick back up.

Then Harry says only, “To stargaze, Louis. Do you want to get out of the truck?” And the moment slips away.

Louis turns around to rummage in the back seat for the blanket he knows he’s seen there. “Ha,” he grabs it and holds it up triumphantly. “It’s fucking freezing out there,” he says, and gets out of the truck, his heart pounding a bit. What _was_ that moment? He doesn’t want to risk pissing Harry of by making a move if Harry’s straight, but he really, really kind of wants to make a move.

They move with unspoken accord to the front of the truck, and Harry boosts himself up onto the hood of the car and offers a hand to Louis, who takes it, They settle themselves leaning back against the windshield, and Louis lets himself hope just a bit as Harry shakes out the blanket and drapes it over them both, and settles back, pressing gently against Louis’ side as they stare up at the sky.

After a moment, Louis says, “God, that is _gorgeous._ So, what are we looking at here, anyway? I’ve never actually been stargazing.”

Here, down by the lake, his view is unobstructed by trees and he can’t believe how many stars he can see. It’s heartbreakingly beautiful, and somehow, here under this celestial canopy, Louis feels simultaneously so small and yet, so infinite.

Beside him, Harry laughs a bit, “I’ve always been shit at being able to see constellations, so I have no idea, to be honest.” His voice is rough and sounds very close to Louis’ ear as he murmurs, “Gorgeous,” and when Louis turns to look at him, he’s right there, so close, and he’s not looking at the sky at all, he’s gazing straight at Louis with such open longing that it takes Louis’ breath away.

“Harry,” he breathes, and then it happens, Harry leans in and catches his mouth in a kiss that Louis feels down to the tips of his icy cold toes. He freezes, surprised at Harry’s bold move, and after a moment, Harry pulls back and looks upset.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” he says, “Shit, I totally misread this, didn’t I.” He moves as if to slide off of the truck and Louis grabs his arm.

“Wait, wait just a minute,” he stutters, trying to process what’s just happened. “Harry, you kissed me.” He knows he sounds positively delighted and he can see when Harry hears it in his voice, because he slowly relaxes a bit next to Louis.

“Um, yeah?” Harry finally says, “I did.” He sounds tentative and unsure and Louis doesn’t like that at all.

Louis runs a gloved hand through his hair and says, “Okay, unless I’m horrendously misinterpreting what just happened, you’re...not straight?”

Harry stares at him in confusion. “Not in the slightest,” he says slowly, “Why on earth would you think I was?”

“Um, when I first came into the pub, Niall told you stop flirting with that waitress, so I guess I just assumed…” his voice trails off as he thinks back over the evening and realizes that if he hadn’t heard Niall’s comment, he never would have mistaken their interactions for anything but flirting.

“Well,” Harry says primly, and Louis can just hear the smile breaking through in his voice, “Louis, you really shouldn’t ever assume someone’s sexuality.”

“But,” Louis points out, “I came out to you, that would have been, you know, an opportune moment to say something, ‘yeah, man, me too.’ Are you not…” his voice trails off and then he asks gently, “Are you not out, Harry? Is that why you asked me that about being out at BC?”

Harry shrugs, and wraps an arm around Louis, pulling him in close as he leans back against the truck. “I’m out to everyone who matters, but I wasn’t sure about how it would be on campus.”

There’s silence again between them and then Louis thinks _fuck it,_ and does what he’s been longing to do all evening. He leans and presses a kiss to the spot where Harry’s jaw meets his neck, and he hears Harry’s breath hiss in suddenly.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs, pausing to hear Harry’s answer.

“Uh,” Harry swallows audibly and says, “Yeah, um, yes. More than okay.”

His head tilts back as Louis mouths his way along Harry’s jaw, loving the feel of the stubble under his tongue. As Louis closes in on Harry’s mouth, Harry’s other hand comes up to cup Louis’ head, the leather of his glove rough against Louis’ face, and then Harry turns his head to meet him, their mouths coming together in a flash of such heat that Louis wonders if steam is rising from their skin.

The kiss starts hot and stays there, and Harry yanks Louis around so now he’s lying on top of him, their bodies separated by the bulk of their winter clothes as they kiss again and again, and Louis is hardening up in his jeans, and wishing he could feel Harry too. After a moment, Harry eases back and looks at Louis, his mouth swollen, his skin reddened from Louis’ stubble.

“Not to be too forward,” he whispers, “But it’s fucking freezing out here. Do you...would you want to get back in the truck? Maybe,” he flushes, “Maybe into the back seat? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to…”

Louis grins and says, “I’d love to get into the back seat of the truck with you, Harry, and yeah, we can…” He can feel himself blushing as he says, “Well, let’s just see where it goes?”

Harry groans and then with surprising grace, slides down the hood of the truck and lifts Louis down after him, He stumbles a bit as they move around the vehicle, and Louis laughs as they slide onto the bench seat in the rear of the cab. Louis sits back for a moment and then takes a deep breath.

“I just wanted to say that I really like you, Harry.” Harry freezes and his smile is a mile wide. “And, like, I’d love to see you again when we get back to college.”

“Really?” He breathes and Louis stares at him.

“Um, obviously,” he says, “I mean, we had great conversation, you’re funny and gorgeous and,” he flushes, “And you seem really nice.”

“I’d like that too,” Harry breathes, and with that settled, he leans in and captures Louis’ mouth again. It’s warmer in the truck, the remnants of the heat from their drive here still lingering, so Louis takes a moment, and without breaking Harry’s gaze, he strips off his gloves, and then carefully unbuttons his coat. “I want to feel you,” he whispers and Harry moans softly, eagerly following suit.

Louis slides down onto his back, and yanks Harry down against him, pulling the blanket back up over them both and groans at the feel of Harry pressing him down into the upholstery because this, oh my, this is really good. He winds his arms around Harry’s neck and Harry kisses him long and deep, rolling his hips down to grind against him, and Louis can feel the hot, hard length of him through his jeans, and that’s even better, that’s _really_ good.

Harry’s tongue slips in between his lips, and he sets up a fast rhythm, that’s echoed by the movement of his body and Louis clings to him, overwhelmed, feeling a bit like he’s being swept away on a tidal force of passion as they kiss, over and over again. Harry is pressed against him, and Louis savors the weight of his body against his own, the feel of his breath hot against Louis’ skin, and it’s good, it’s _so good,_ Louis can’t help but moan again, already shockingly close to the edge.

Harry pulls back for a moment, takes a deep, gasping breath and Louis smiles up at him. He’s pretty sure he looks a mess, from Harry running his hand through his hair, and his skin feels as raw as Harry’s looks, but Harry is staring at him with something like awe and something like joy, and it’s far too soon to be feeling this, but Louis can’t help it, can’t stop the flood of emotion that’s rising through him.

“Is this,” Harry takes another deep breath, clearly trying to control himself, “Is this okay, Lou?”

He moves against Louis, almost involuntarily it seems, and Louis can’t help himself, his back arches as he presses back up and his voice is hoarse as he gasps, “It’s good, Harry, fuck, it’s really good.”

“I just,” Harry closes his eyes for a moment and flushes, “If we keep going, I’m gonna...I mean, I’m getting there, Louis, I’m really close, so if you want to stop, we should…we should stop now if you want to stop.”

Louis pauses, actually thinks about it for a moment, and then says, “I don’t want to stop, Harry, but if you do, we can. Nothing’s going to change the fact that I’ll want to see you again.”

Harry’s eyes are curiously bright as he says softly, “You’re saying you’ll still respect me in the morning?”

Louis snorts and says, “I’ll respect you whenever, Harry. But you’re right. If we’re gonna stop, we should stop now.” He grins what he suspects is a filthy grin as he admits, “You’re not the only one who was getting close.”

“Oh god,” Harry groans, “Fuck, Louis,” and then they move at the same time, Harry leaning down as Louis winds his arms back around Harry’s neck and pulls him back towards him, and then Harry’s lips lands on Louis’, and Louis is lost.

Harry then mouths his way down to Louis’ neck, and Louis is writhing under him as he bites and sucks, even as his hips rock against Louis’ and the feel of his hard cock through the layers of denim between them is _so much,_ Louis can’t even imagine what it will be like when they’re skin to skin.

Picturing Harry’s large hand wrapped around his cock proves to be Louis’ undoing and he thrusts up against Harry and cries out as his eyes just about roll back in his head and he comes, hard, shuddering under Harry who is staring down at him in awe, and then muttering, “Fuck, fuck, _fuck,_ Louis,” as he thrusts against Louis’ still-quivering body, and comes as well.

The silence in the truck is broken by their gasping breaths as they both lie still, Harry collapsed onto Louis, who relishes the weight of his body. Louis manages to wrap his arms around Harry and hold him loosely as Harry buries his face in Louis’ shoulder as they both recover.

Finally, Harry lifts his head and looks at Louis. “Shit,” he breaths, “That was. Oh my _God,_ Louis, that was incredible.”

“Right?” says Louis, and sue him, he sounds smug as shit, but really, who wouldn’t be, in a moment like this. “That was fucking amazing.” They stare at each other for another long moment and then Harry smiles and presses a kiss to Louis’ lips that is so sweet and gentle, Louis feels his heart stutter, and there is no awkwardness as they carefully disentangle from one another, sitting up, wrapping their coats back around themselves.

Louis looks around and starts laughing, because they’ve steamed up the interior of the truck so thoroughly that he can’t see out the windows at all. Harry looks around and notices as well, and throws his head back as he laughs, and then he pulls Louis into a warm cuddle.

There’s a moment of quiet and then Harry says, “Um, I hate to say this, but it’s getting late,” he bites his lip and says apologetically, “we should probably getting back.” Louis checks the time and agrees, it’s well past midnight.

He leans over to kiss Harry and says softly, “Merry Christmas, Harry,” and Harry just smiles back and says “Happy birthday, Louis.”

They clamber up into the front seat, Louis grimacing at the cool stickiness in his pants, and Harry starts the truck up, blasting the defroster. They wait until the windshield and windows have cleared enough so that Harry can see to navigate them up to the road, and from there, north into the city. Louis tilts his head back to lean against the headrest, and lays his hand, safely back in its glove, onto Harry’s thigh, where he can feel the muscles working under his grip as Harry accelerates the truck.

In far too short a time, they’ve pulled up onto a residential street, in front of a large building that Louis suspects houses multiple apartments. Harry shuts off the truck and turns to face Louis, and for the first time, Louis starts to feel a bit awkward.

And then Harry smiles, and Louis’ heart starts to race. Harry holds out his hand. “Give me your phone?”

Harry yanks off his gloves as Louis hands over the phone, and quickly enters his number and then sends himself a text. They look at each other in silence and then Harry leans over and wraps his arms around Louis, pulling him across the bench into a tight hug. “That was amazing, Louis, I just...I really want to see you again. Can I see you soon?”

Louis nods, sets the phone down on the seat next to him, and says, “Text me whenever you want, Harry. Like I said, I don’t really know people around here, so…” he laughs a bit self-deprecatingly, “I’m not doing much until I head back to Boston.”

Harry smiles and pulls back, and Louis shivers in the cold of the absence of his body. He kisses Louis once more, gently and then moves to get out of the truck, and Louis slides across to get behind the wheel.

Harry turns and says softly, “I’ll text you soon, okay?”

Louis just nods, and watches as Harry slams the door, and crosses in front the truck, and then jogs up the steps onto the wide porch. He pulls out his keys and unlocks the door, and before he goes inside, he turns once more and waves. Louis waves back, watches the door shut and the lights inside come on, and sighs. It’s time to go. He turns on the truck, and as he pulls out into the street, he hears the chime of an incoming text and glances over at his phone, and smiles.

_**Harry** :_ _I didn’t want to leave you. I’ll talk to you soon. Merry Christmas, Louis._

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction, meant only to entertain. Please don’t break the 4th wall or post anywhere else!
> 
> As always, the words, as well as the errors, are mine. 
> 
> Feel free to [come say hi on Tumblr!](http://phd-mama.tumblr.com/) If you enjoyed this, the rest of my stuff can be [found here!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phdmama/works)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and I would love it if you left a kudos or a comment, they all make my day brighter and inspire me to write moe!


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